


Drops of Jupiter

by WatermelonTuesdays



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, But I'm going to tag this as a soulmate AU, I'm not sure if I should tag this as a soulmate AU, M/M, Man of your dreams (literally), Not really an AU but we'll call it that anyway, Past Lives, Prophetic Dreams, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-21 01:58:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16150154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WatermelonTuesdays/pseuds/WatermelonTuesdays
Summary: Keith is a college student who dreams of Voltron when surprise surprise, the man of his dreams is his roommate.---------He had not meant to sleep, but the heavy lifting to his stifling 5th floor dorm room wore him out. Despite the late summer heat, the sunbeam across his bed had been inviting, and the arm across his eyes blocks enough of the light that he is in a deep sleep within moments.The dream that Keith settles into is an old one. He knew it well, so well that he no longer twitched and jumped in his sleep. He knew the twists and turns of each scene and none of it surprised him.It started the same each time, with a blue lion and a mad dash through space.





	Drops of Jupiter

**Author's Note:**

> Drops of Jupiter is SUCH a Sheith song and I just wanted to write something with it and this is what I came up with. :)

The day was hot and humid. The only curtain on the window was a flimsy white gauze that did nothing to temper the bright glare of the sun. 

All of Keith’s earthly possessions are piled haphazardly in his half of the small room, boxes are huddled on his desk and bags are piled around him on the small bed. His sole treasure, a NASA poster signed by NDT, hangs securely in its cheap plastic frame, watching over him as he sleeps on the bare dorm mattress. 

He had not meant to sleep, but the heavy lifting to his stifling 5th floor dorm room wore him out. Despite the late summer heat, the sunbeam across his bed had been inviting, and the arm across his eyes blocks enough of the light that he is in a deep sleep within moments.

The dream that Keith settles into is an old one. He knew it well, so well that he no longer twitched and jumped in his sleep. He knew the twists and turns of each scene and none of it surprised him.

It started the same each time, with a blue lion and a mad dash through space. He soared through the universe – through scenes of such indescribable beauty he sometimes cried out in wonder in his sleep. He did not travel alone. He was surrounded by friends and family, and a mother that was not his own mother, but yet still somehow she was. He dreams of having purpose, a duty in the grand scheme of the universe.

The fights are hard, the explosions loud and terrifying. As a child he had often awaken screaming – in fear, but also sometimes in a pain that felt too real. 

They fight an unnamed evil that spans millions of lightyears; just him, his friends, and what can only be described as a giant robot from space. 

He never sees the final battle, only feels his own determination and strength pooling with the others’, only sees a flash of iridescent light, only knows a deep and everlasting peace that settles into the space between his lungs and heart. 

And then, more recently, he has been shown more. He sees a path of love written through the gaps of the dream. There’s a man, a man who is perfect but broken. Strong but fragile. Kind but uncompromising. A man who is an authority first, friend and confidant later, and finally a lover. 

He aches with desperation, even through the tight binds of sleep, for this one man. No dream has ever felt so real, and every time he awakes the image is burned further onto his heart. Sometimes he cries because he has no idea who this man is, or if any of this is real, but he longs for the man just the same.

Later, in the harsh light of reality, he has to remind himself that dreams aren’t real and neither is prophecy. No matter that sometimes his shoulder hurts from a punch or his ears ring for hours from an explosion: it is not real. Even if it is real… but it’s not.

Keith wakes up with tears in his eyes and an ache in his chest that has nothing to do with moving in. He blinks them away and checks his surroundings. Still no sign of a roommate. Maybe he would luck out and have the place to himself. 

The thought bolsters him. He turns his music to shuffle, grabs for the nearest bag, and starts organizing. 

Not even an hour later and Keith is fully unpacked. Everything he owns is neatly organized in the drawers and closet. If not for the poster and the few spine-broken books on the shelf, no one would know he had moved in. 

Making the bed might help, he decides, and sets about doing that. 

The music catches his attention, and Keith stops for a moment to listen. “Now that she’s back in the atmosphere with drops of Jupiter in her hair. She acts like summer and walks like rain…”

It’s not the kind of music he usually listens to. It’s old, but not old enough, or angry enough, for his usual tastes. But there’s something about that song. 

Ever since his dream started showing that man, this song has called to him. He can’t stop listening to it.

“Tell me! Did the wind sweep you off your feet? Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day and…”

The fumble of a key in the lock alerts Keith to his roommate in time to straighten up and turn towards the door.

The breath stops in his lungs. It doesn’t catch prettily. It fully stops until he has to gasp a moment later.

It’s him.

It’s exactly him. The young version that he sees only briefly in a cloud of dust on a hoverbike, with brown hair and a jaw he’s still growing into. 

“Hey,” the man doesn’t seem to notice that Keith isn’t breathing, “I’m Takashi, but you can call me Shiro. I guess we’re roommates.”

He secures his bag on his shoulder before he holds out his hand.

It is the touch of his hand on Keith’s that forces him to finally gasp for air. “Keith,” he says after a deep breath.

He knows his bed is still half-made, and his eyes are too wide, his lips still parted in mute shock, but he can’t do anything to fix it.

Shiro is too busy putting his bag on his bed and looking around the room to notice Keith. His eyes scan Keith’s side of the room and he asks if someone’s still coming with he rest of his stuff.

Keith shrugs and returns to making the bed. “It’s all here, I don’t have much. Do you need help carrying up?”

Shiro smiles at the offer and Keith feels his own lips lift in response. He trots down the hall after Shiro, feeling like a lost puppy who finally found his owner. 

Which isn’t far from true.

\---

They are 6 months into the best and closest friendship either has ever experienced before Keith takes the plunge. 

It’s late at night, dark and cold when he comes in. He drops his bags quietly when he sees that Shiro is bed, but it doesn’t matter because Shiro is a light sleeper. 

“Hey,” Shiro says in a voice clear enough that Keith thinks he might not have actually slept yet.

“Hey, didn’t mean to wake you,” he apologizes just in case. 

“Didn’t,” Shiro sighs and rolls over to look up at Keith in the moonlight that filters in through the thin curtain. “How was studying?”

“They officially kick you out of the study hall at 11,” Keith kicks off his shoes and pulls himself out of his clothes as he moves through the room. “And they really don’t like it if you try and sneak back in.”

Shiro laughs sleepily. “I could have told you that.”

Keith shrugs, then shivers.

“God it’s cold.”

“It’s February.”

“Still.”

Keith pauses between their beds and then slips under the covers of Shiro’s bed.

“Hey.” Shiro’s voice is awake, and his eyes glint in the moonlight.

“Hi.” Keith leaves a fraction of space between them. “It’s cold,” he explains. Then, “is this ok?”

Shiro’s arm is warm around his waist and his chest is a furnace when he pulls Keith close.

“It’s perfect.”

Their lips find each other in the darkness and Keith sighs into the kiss like he’s still holding that breath from the first moment they met. 

Shiro chuckles, “is it good?”

“It’s about damn time!”

They fall asleep in each others arms for the first night of many. 

And for the last night, Keith dreams of the future.

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think? I hope you liked it!
> 
> I really like the idea that what they do with Voltron reverberates through time and through past lives to help Keith and Shiro find each other.
> 
> As always, you can find me doing not much of anything on tumblr as WatermelonTuesdays.
> 
> And please give me kudos if you like this because it feeds my ego ^-^


End file.
